


The Sweetest Revenge

by vanillalime



Category: American Idol RPF, Rymon
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Dubious Consent, M/M, Mystery, Some Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-12
Updated: 2016-04-12
Packaged: 2018-06-02 01:02:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,185
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6544117
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vanillalime/pseuds/vanillalime
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ryan is determined to learn the story behind his bizarre characterization in Tom Bower's new biography of Simon.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Sweetest Revenge

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted to my LiveJournal in November 2012.
> 
> In April 2012, Tom Bower (a respected investigative journalist who previously worked for the BBC) published a biography of Simon Cowell titled "Sweet Revenge." Although the biography is considered "unauthorized," Simon granted Bower access to 200 hours of his time (including holidays in the Mediterranean and the Caribbean), and it seems as if the book was written to prove three basic points: (1) Simon is 100% heterosexual and NOT gay in any way, shape, or form; (2) Simon is more successful, intelligent, sexy, and powerful than Simon Fuller could ever hope to be; and (3) Ryan Seacrest barely exists, but when he does, it is only as a source of great irritation to Simon Cowell. This story is a decidedly fantastical attempt to explain how someone like Tom Bower could have written a book filled with so many distortions and lies.

Ryan quickly reached out and took the brown paper bag from his personal assistant.    
  
"Thanks for ordering this for me," he quietly said to her.  
  
"I feel like I'm sneaking porn to you," she responded with a smile.  
  
_That could be closer to the truth than I'd like,_ thought Ryan to himself as he turned and walked back to his office.  
  
Inside the bag was the book “Sweet Revenge,” Tom Bower's new biography of Simon.  Ryan sat down, promptly opened the book to the index, and nervously searched for his name.  

He was surprised by the lack of entries listed.  After thinking about it, however, he realized that it was probably a good sign.  Ryan began to skip through the book, reading the passages where he was mentioned.  By the end, he was stunned.  Practically every discussion of him described him as some kind of egotistical famewhore, someone barely tolerated by Simon!  
  
Ryan threw the book down in disgust.  It was clear from recent tabloid reports that Bower had spent a LOT of time with Simon gathering information for the book, and Ryan began to wonder if the anecdotes and this characterization by Bower had come directly from Simon.  

Ryan thought back to last fall, when Simon had hardly any time for him.   _Too busy with X Factor, my ass!  He had enough time to feed lies to this asshole!  Or maybe he just felt too guilty to face me!_  thought Ryan.  If not for the extraordinarily blissful vacation they shared in St. Bart's after New Year's, Ryan might seriously be questioning Simon's true feelings toward him right now.  
  
Contradictory emotions continued to weave their way through Ryan's mind and body.  He knew that, above all, he should feel relief, as their greatest fear of being outed had not materialized.  But also present were shock, anger, and pain, as he realized that the book virtually ignored ANY component of their relationship, including that of simple friendship.  Simon's eventual unconditional approval of Ryan, something he had worked hard all these years to obtain, not only went unacknowledged, but was tossed aside in favor of the old "we really, really hate each other" mantra.    
  
But, as disappointing as it was, it made sense that multiple truths might need to be concealed in order to help perpetuate the ultimate necessary falsehood.  Ryan knew this in his heart, and after contemplating the situation, understood why Simon may have said certain things to Bower.  He could not stay angry at Simon.  
  
Consequently, the one lingering emotion, the one that began to override all the others, was confusion.  Ryan was used to being Simon's dirty little secret that was NO secret, and he knew that confirmation of the true nature of their relationship would not have been difficult to obtain.  How had Simon been able to fool Bower so completely?  Or, if he hadn't, why was Bower so willing to play along, and not report what he had learned?  These questions began to eat away at Ryan, until he knew that he couldn't rest until he got some answers.  
  
********  
  
Simon's secretary opened the door into Simon's London office and led Tom Bower inside.  Simon stood up from his desk.  
  
"Thanks for coming down to the book launch yesterday," Bower said to Simon as they shook hands.  “It meant a lot."  
  
As his secretary retreated, closing the door behind her, Simon replied, "No problem.  It was the least I could do."   
  
Bower walked behind Simon's desk, blowing the smoke from his cigarette into Simon's face as Simon sat back down.  
  
"Yes, I would agree, it's the least you can do.  I'm now expecting more from you."  Bower looked directly into Simon's eyes.  “I DEMAND more," he clarified.  
  
Simon struggled to keep his face neutral.  "Exactly what do you have in mind?"  
  
"Oh, I think you know," said Bower as he moved closer, stopping only when he was directly in front of Simon.  
  
"I thought we had a deal," Simon whispered.  "Once the book came out, it was over."  
  
"That was before the publishers asked for an update to use in the paperback edition.  Looks like you and I will be spending some more time together," Bower said with a leer.  He undid his belt and unzipped his trousers.    
  
"You know the drill," Bower hissed.  
  
For a moment, Simon sat still, thinking things through.  Then, reluctantly, he leaned forward and pulled down Bower's trousers and underwear.  He placed his hands on Bower's hips, closed his eyes, and thought of Ryan.  
  
********

Ryan was glad to arrive home.  His head had been spinning all afternoon as he tried to work out some kind of plan to find out the truth behind his depiction in Simon’s book.

Ryan had decided that confronting Simon with uncomfortable questions would not be the best way to approach the situation.  He was sure of that.  Simon hated confrontations, and Ryan was conscious of the fact that he could also be overreacting.  He needed to be cautious and discreet to get his answers.    
  
The U.S. auditions for X Factor were coming up, and he guessed that Tom Bower would be lurking in the shadows just as he had been last year.  Ryan couldn't be involved directly in this quest for explanations, instead he needed a brainless stooge that he could use as a pawn, someone who would also be able to get close to the situation without raising suspicions.    
  
Finally, he had an idea.  He sat down at his kitchen table and began to search his directory for Tony Cowell's phone number....  
  
********  
  
Tony practically began to hyperventilate when he saw the caller ID as his phone rang.  Ryan Seacrest was someone who was almost as busy as his brother.  He wasn't sure if getting such a call meant good news or bad, but he knew that it must be important.  Which meant, of course, that HE was important.  
  
" _Ryan?!_ " squeaked Tony as he answered the call.  
  
"Hello, Tony.  How are you doing these days?" Ryan asked politely.  
  
Tony couldn't believe that Ryan was actually calling him.  He tried to control the excitement in his voice.

"Thingsllbenjusgood!" he managed to strangle out in reply.  
  
"Uh, okay," said Ryan.  "Listen, I want to ask you about something.  Are you still working as an X Factor correspondent for Reelz?  Are you going to be at the American audition cities this summer?"  
  
There was silence from Tony's end.  He honestly didn't know if Reelz was going to have him back for another season of reporting or not.  He hadn't heard from them since the first season of X Factor had ended in December.  Quickly, he blurted out, "I'm not sure.  I've been too busy to take their calls."  
  
"Uh-huh," said Ryan.  Another moment of silence passed.  "Well, I'm sure that they are desperate not to let the best X Factor correspondent around slip through their fingers," Ryan continued.  "The next time they call, be sure to answer."  
  
"Maybe they've already found someone else," Tony admitted.  
  
"No, they'll definitely want you," Ryan assured him.  "And when they do, I want you to do a little favor for me.  But it needs to be kept a secret.  It's a bit like a spy mission, that only someone as smart and important and connected as yourself could pull off."  
  
"Oh, I would make a GREAT spy," puffed Tony.  "Just like James Bond!"  
  
"That's right," agreed Ryan.  "But the person I need you to spy on is Simon.  You don't have a problem with that do you?"  
  
"Well....," Tony hesitated.  "Why do you need me to spy on Simon?  You want to steal his X Factor secrets to use on Idol?  I'm not sure I could help you with that."  Tony hoped the sentiment came across as loyalty, even though the truth was that Simon would never entrust him with any of his X Factor secrets.  
  
"No, no, not at all," Ryan assured him.  "This is for personal reasons, not professional."  Ryan paused.  "To be perfectly honest with you, I'm a little concerned about Simon's health.  There have been times this last year when he hasn't been looking so great.  And you know how he doesn't like to discuss such things.  I want someone to stay close to him, observe him, see what he does in private.  Make sure that he's all right.  But don't let him know that I'm worried about him, or he'll just close down.  Then report back to me what you see and hear.  Do you think you can handle that?"  
  
"Well, sure!" said Tony.  But he began to wonder what was in this for him.  Maybe he could get some money out of Ryan.  Tony decided to feign some reluctance.  
  
"I just don't know if spying on my own brother is such a nice thing to do," he proclaimed sanctimoniously.  
  
"Listen, we all want Simon to stay healthy, don't we?" said Ryan.  "If something happens, and he's too sick to continue working, a LOT of people will be affected.  A LOT of people will probably lose their jobs.   _Even those people who do not work directly for him_."  
  
Something clicked inside Tony's head.  "Oh, I see your point," he responded.  "If it's for the good of the majority, it's probably the right thing to do."  
  
"And, ultimately, for the good of Simon, as well," Ryan added.  
  
"Oh, of course, for the good of Simon, too," agreed Tony.  
  
"So, we have a deal, Mr. Bond?" Ryan prompted.  
  
"Yes!" replied Tony, as he began to franticly search for the phone number of the producer he had worked with at Reelz.  
  
********  
  
In shock, the general manager for Reelz hung up the phone and summoned his senior executive producer into his office.  
  
"Have you made any plans for our coverage of X Factor this year?" he asked her upon arrival.  
  
"It's funny you should ask that," she replied.  "I've been dodging calls from Tony Cowell all day.  I wasn't sure what to tell him."  
  
"I just had a very strange phone conversation with one of Tony's big fans."  
  
"Tony Cowell has fans?"  
  
"Well, he has one very wealthy one, anyway.  Some guy just offered to pay Tony's entire salary if we kept him on as a reporter for X Factor.  He even wants us to send Tony to all the audition cities.  Said he would pay for the whole thing.  Anonymously, of course."  
  
"Considering that we paid Tony the minimum wage last year, this fan of his wouldn't need to be all that wealthy," the producer laughed.  "That is certainly very curious though.  Do you think Simon Cowell is behind it?"  
  
"I really don't know.  But I figure we should continue to cover the show somehow, and this would help with our bottom line.  I see no reason not to accept the guy's offer.  It seems like a win/win situation for everyone."  
  
"Then I'll give Tony a call back and ask him if he's available," the producer said.  
  
The GM looked at her and laughed.  "I'm pretty sure that he is," he said with a wink.  
  
********  
  
_Who the hell decided that Austin would be a great place to hold auditions?_  
  
Lost in his own thoughts, Simon slowly made his way back to his hotel room.   The jet-lag from London was killing him.  He hated doing the auditions, and this first day for the new season had been horrible.  As much as Simon had hated doing the auditions for Idol, he hated them even more now.  He felt worn down, physically and emotionally.  
  
X Factor was still not the show he wanted it to be.  He felt like he had already seen all these same contestants, good or bad, ten times before.  Britney was a zoned-out zombie, Demi was an annoying child, and LA.... well, he was a good enough guy, but he wasn't like Randy or Louis.    
  
And, of course, he had yet to find his new hosts.  No one that they had auditioned could compare with Ryan, and that realization was killing him inside.   He so badly wished that Ryan was here with him now, doing this show with him; their after-hours fun had at least made the Idol auditions bearable.  Instead, now, he was headed back to his room, alone, where he would spend the night reviewing and editing the day's auditions and eating food ordered from room service.  
  
Simon sighed wearily.  He really needed to be more optimistic.   _Things will surely get better at some point,_ he thought.  
  
He opened the door to his suite, walked inside, and immediately felt his stomach churn.  He knew his immediate plans had just changed, and certainly not for the better.    
  
There was Tom Bower, sitting at the desk, typing away on his laptop.  Waiting.  
  
Bower looked up and sat back in his chair.  "Where have you been?" he asked.  
  
"It's been a long day," Simon began to protest.  
  
"It's going to be an even longer night," Bower declared with a mischievous smile.  
  
Simon felt his anger building.  "I'm going to stop giving you a room key if you refuse to let me know when you're going to be in the room," he proclaimed with great irritation as he slammed the suite's door shut.  
  
"You'll do nothing of the sort," Bower quietly retorted.  He got up and strode over to Simon.  He placed his hands on Simon's shoulders and began to caress them.  "Relax," he instructed, and then his hands began to wander....  
  
"I need to check my messages," Simon stalled.  "Ryan has been trying to reach me."  
  
It was a lie, but Simon knew that would stop him.  
  
Bower's eyes narrowed as he pulled away.  "What does that little bitch want?" he asked, his voice seething with hate.  "And why do you even care?"  
  
"I don't know!" Simon said defensively.  "And he's not a bitch!" he added.  
  
"That's not the impression you gave me," Bower scoffed.  Once again, he moved closer to Simon.  "He was nothing but your bitch for years."  Bower cupped Simon's cheek with his hand, before aggressively planting his lips near Simon's ear and whispering, ".... and now that it's over,  _you_  are mine."   
  
Simon felt something inside snap.  He pushed Bower away.  "NO!  Maybe I lied!  Or maybe you heard what you wanted to hear!  Maybe things with Ryan were that way years ago, but then they changed!  Maybe it's NOT over, and I will NEVER be yours!" he exclaimed.  
  
Simon had been wanting to say such things for a long time, to himself as well as to Bower.  Feeling as if a dam had been broken, Simon decided to throw caution to the wind.  He regained his breath and continued his rant:  
  
"Write whatever you want about me in your update for that damn book!  I don't think I care anymore if people believe that I'm gay!  But you are going to look pretty foolish yourself, changing your tune about things now, when you consider what you've already written about me!"  
  
Simon stopped and held his breath.  He wasn't sure what would happen next.  
  
Bower, walking away from him, remained surprisingly calm.  He came to a stop when he reached the desk.  
  
"Actually, I've been tinkering with something else lately," said Bower, as he clicked a few keys on his laptop.  "Not your book, but another biography instead.  This one would be about...."  Bower paused before rolling his eyes and finishing, ".... your  _little friend_."  
  
Bower grabbed a handful of papers off the top of the desk.  He held them up and locked eyes with Simon.  
  
"While I was researching my book about you, I came across a lot of, shall we say, interesting information about Ryan.  I've been wondering if it would be a shame to let all this knowledge go to waste."  
  
Simon opened his eyes wide.  He could see Bower's mouth draw up in a slow smile as he proceeded to drive his point home:    
  
"It turns out that it was much, much easier to find people who knew and were willing to share the details about his private life than it was yours.  It seems that he used to lead a relatively open and rather....  _active_.... lifestyle before he met you.  Even afterwards, to a lesser degree.  I'm sure the general public would find such stories to make for a fascinating read, even if I don't bother to include the ones that involve you."  
  
Bower placed the papers back down on the desk.  He slowly shook his head, forcibly changing his smile into a frown.  "It would be horrible to see a friend's career come crashing down, just as it is peaking," he sighed, mocking sincerity.  

He looked back up at Simon.  "If one truly cares about that friend, he should be willing to do almost  _anything_  to stop that from happening."  
  
Simon remained frozen in place, his mind slowly comprehending the situation that Bower had created.  Bower walked back toward him, stopping only when their faces were inches apart, and continued his monologue:  
  
"So, you need to ask yourself, exactly what kind of feelings do you have toward Ryan?  If you actually love him, do you really want to be responsible for destroying his career?  Because that will most certainly happen if I decide to pursue the idea of another book.  However, I could be easily....  _dissuaded_.... from doing that."  
  
Bower wrapped his arms around Simon's waist and placed his hands firmly on Simon's ass before continuing.  "In  _that_  case, the only writing I'd be doing is a sunshine-and-puppies update to your book.  The public need not be any the wiser about anyone else's private life."  
  
Bower pushed his obvious erection into Simon's crotch as he whispered, "And if you DON'T care for him, then why not continue to enjoy the good times we've been sharing?  Someone needs to be around to keep you out of trouble, and I doubt that any of your pseudo-friends are capable of properly handling you and giving you the attention you deserve.  And that certainly includes Ryan."  
  
To hasten an ending to Simon's obvious internal conflict, Bower laid it out as simply as he could.  "Sleeping with me will prove that you love Ryan, or it will prove that you don't.  I don't really care which way it is, as long as you do it."  
  
Bower's hands began to make quick work of Simon's belt, button, and zipper.  Simon felt dazed, but he sensed that he had lost the battle.  His brain was moving much slower than Bower's hands and mouth, and the next thing he knew, he was down on the floor, face forward, with Bower's loud moans and grunts overwhelming what little thought process he still had.  
  
********  
  
Afterward, Bower began to softly laugh in delight.  He was amazed at how easy it had all been.  The great Simon Cowell was indeed his bitch.  Bower had been on power trips before, but none of them could compare to this one.  
  
He leaned over Simon's back to whisper in his ear.  "Did you really think things would change after your book was published?" he asked.  
  
The lack of response from Simon annoyed Bower.  He wanted to provoke some kind--any kind--of reaction out of Simon.  In a rare display of altruism, Bower reached around and began to stroke Simon's dick.  But he couldn't help but make another observation:   
  
"I have your ass over a barrel, in more ways than one."  
  
Bower's laughter grew louder as he reveled in his clever assessment of the situation.  
  
********  
  
Ryan, having just changed into his pajamas, was feverishly brushing his teeth in a feeble attempt to avoid the temptation of another cookie.  His phone rang, and when he saw that the call was from Tony Cowell, he quickly finished and picked up.  
  
"Hello, Tony," Ryan answered.  "How are the auditions going?"  
  
"Ryan!  I have my first status report ready for you!"  Tony responded eagerly.  "You know what?  You were right to be concerned about Simon.  He is behaving very strangely!  Well, stranger than usual for Simon."  Tony laughed at his own little attempt at humor.  
  
Ryan rubbed his face as he sat down on his bed.  He wasn't sure what qualified as "strange" to Tony, so he needed to prepare himself for anything.  "Fill me in," he instructed.  
  
"Well, the auditions seemed to go on forever today," Tony began breathlessly.  "Simon seemed really worn out when they were over, and I was worried about him.  I discreetly followed him back to his hotel room, keeping an eye on him, just like you asked me.  But Simon never had any idea I was there!”  
  
Tony paused before proclaiming dramatically, "James Bond has nothing on me!"  
  
Images of Austin Powers flashed through Ryan's brain, and he would have burst out laughing if he wasn't so tired.  "You're a man of many talents, Tony.  Go on," he prompted.

"Simon made it back to his room okay, but as soon as he walked in, he began arguing with someone inside.  I was too far away to hear what was said, but I could tell Simon was upset about something.  Then he slammed the door shut.  I made my way to the doorway, and stood outside.  I could hear Simon shouting, but I just couldn't make out what he was saying.  I pulled out my Mr. Microphone Cassette Player to try to record what was going on, but then things went quiet for a long time.  And then, and THEN.... " Tony stopped and lowered his voice.  "That's when things got really strange," he declared in a stage-whisper.  
  
There was silence for a moment before Ryan realized this was the part where Tony expected some encouragement.  Ryan thought the scenario of Simon arguing with someone was hardly cause for excitement, but he wanted to keep Tony engaged.  "Wow.  What happened next?" he asked with as much enthusiasm as he could muster.  
  
"THAT'S when I heard all this moaning," Tony said.  
  
Ryan's attention was suddenly piqued.  "Moaning?" he repeated.  
  
"And then grunting."  
  
"Grunting?!"  
  
"And panting, too."  
  
" _Panting?!_ "  
  
"At this point, I was rather frightened.  I thought Simon might be having a heart attack."  
  
"Are you kidding?  You thought he might be having _a heart attack_?" Ryan asked incredulously, marveling at Tony’s naivete’.  
  
"Yes!  It went on for a while, and I couldn't understand why the person inside who he had been arguing with wasn't calling for help.  I was just about to knock on the door to ask if everything was all right, when I heard laughing."  
  
"Simon started  _laughing_?"  
  
"No, it wasn't Simon's laugh, but I thought I recognized it.  It went on so long, I felt sure that everything must be all right.  Just when I figured it was safe to leave, the door opened and out walked Tom Bower."  
  
Ryan's stomach dropped to the floor, and his mouth went dry as he was left speechless.  His mind began spinning as Tony continued to talk.  
  
"He's the guy who wrote that book about Simon, the guy who was always hanging around him last year.  They're great pals now, you know.  It seems like they’re always together.  I guess now Tom is keeping him company on these audition trips again.  Anyway, he saw me, so I asked him how Simon was feeling.  He said that Simon was a little irritable when he first got back to the room, but after Tom suggested they work out a little, he felt better.  Tom said he was instructing Simon in how to do proper push-ups."

"Fuck," said Ryan under his breath.  
  
"What did you say?" asked Tony.  
  
Ryan cleared his throat and loudly stated, "I said, ' _What luck!'_ "

"Oh, yes.  It seems it was all a false alarm on my part.  Tom said he is going to be sticking close to Simon for a while.  Apparently, he wants to keep an eye on him, too.”

“I’ll bet he does," Ryan said wryly.  
  
"What do you mean by that?" Tony asked.  
  
"Never mind," Ryan back-pedaled.  "It's good to know that so many people are concerned about Simon's welfare.  Have you talked to Simon since this happened?"  
  
"No.  He rarely talks to me," Tony replied sadly.  Then he hastily added, “….because he’s so busy with work!  And, naturally, I don’t want to bother him!”

“Hmm,” Ryan replied absentmindedly.  Suddenly, he just wanted Tony to go away.  He had a lot to think about, and dealing with Tony was a distraction he didn’t need.

“I think your job is complete, Mr. Bond,” Ryan told him.  “It sounds like Tom Bower is perfectly capable of handling things from here on out.  Enjoy your work with Reelz, and thanks for your help.”

“Oh!” cried Tony disappointingly.  “But I could do other things to help you!  Maybe we should get together for dinner when I’m in L.A. and go over some ideas!”

“I’m usually really busy working, Tony.”

“How about some vacation time together?  Will you be joining Simon in Barbados during the holidays?  We could all go jet-skiing!”

“I don’t know if I’ll be there this year, Tony.  We’ll see.  Again, thanks for your help.  I need to get to bed.”

Ryan vaguely heard Tony’s response of “Call me anytime!” as he hung up the phone.

He lay down on his bed, feeling sucker-punched, fighting waves of nausea.  At least, now he knew.  Tom Bower had not been fooled; instead, the fool was Ryan.

It wasn’t really about the sex:  they had had an understanding for years.  When they were together, they were together.  When they were apart, there were certain allowances.  Rentboys?  Absolutely.  Casual fuckbuddies?  Sure.  The occasional fantasy fulfillment?  Fine.  Ryan himself had been daydreaming lately about a threeway with One Direction’s Harry and Louis.  

But there were still rules:  discretion, protection, and emotional detachment.  With the way things were adding up, it looked like Simon had forgotten about that last one.

Ryan shut off his light and curled up under the covers.  It hurt, and it still didn’t make much sense.  Although their time together had been limited lately, they had enjoyed that wonderful vacation in St. Bart’s, making their usual connections--emotionally, spiritually, physically.  Communications since then hadn’t indicated anything had changed.  

 _Why would Simon want a relationship with some old, sour, ugly guy like Tom Bower?_ thought Ryan.  His mind wandered as he remembered Merv Griffin.   _No, that was different._   Merv was Ryan’s mentor, who cared for him, who could do things for him and his career, and who was always so appreciative of what Ryan did for him in return.  Also, Ryan was 21 when they met, and horny all the time.  ALL. THE. TIME.  

_What did Simon and Bower have in common?  Why were they inseparable?  Bower wasn’t even involved in show business!  He was a journalist, for Christ’s sake, and Simon hated reading anything beyond car racing magazines!_

Ryan tried to calm down.  He knew that he needed to get to sleep.  

As uncomfortable as it was going to be, Ryan decided that confronting Simon was now the necessary next step.  He needed to know where he stood in Simon’s life, and he was fully prepared to give him an ultimatum if it came to that.  He wasn’t going to settle for being Simon’s second best.  Maybe that would have been acceptable years ago, but not at this point in his life.  They had worked too hard, too much had happened.  Tom Bower may win the prize, but Ryan had too much self-respect to fight him for it.

********

Ryan stood with his arms crossed defensively over his chest.  He looked down at Simon, sitting on a couch in the living room of his house, his face buried in his hands.

“So, let me get this straight.  Basically, what you’re saying is, you’ve been whoring yourself out…. for my sake.”

Simon groaned in response, refusing to look back up at Ryan.  Ryan translated the sound to mean, “Yes.”  He knew instinctively that Simon wasn’t lying.

Ryan’s antagonism began to ebb.  He had mentally prepared himself for this meeting by envisioning all kinds of scenarios, with different excuses and explanations, various reactions, possible outcomes.  Not in his wildest imagination could he have predicted this.

Slowly, Simon moved his hands from his face.  Looking down at the floor, he elaborated on his confession.

“Initially, it was just to protect myself.  Tom promised that the book would be written with a certain slant if he and I had a certain kind of relationship.”

“So, he was blackmailing you.  But instead of money, he wanted sex?”

“Believe me, I tried giving him money instead, but he made it clear that he wanted something else.”

“And you gave in.”

Simon finally looked up at Ryan.  “It’s not like I could go to the authorities!” he said in exasperation.

“Couldn’t your PR team come up with something to take care of him?”

“I wanted to take care of it myself!  I thought I could handle it, handle him.”

Ryan looked Simon square in the eyes.  “And…. ?” he prompted.

Simon caught his look and squirmed under its intensity.  “And…. I didn’t mind at first,” he admitted.  “It seemed…. convenient.  But I didn’t realize that his expectations would increase!  That he would want it to go on for so long.  That he would drag you into it.”

Simon looked back down at the floor.  “It’s been so humiliating.  You wouldn’t believe some of the stuff he’s made me do.”

Ryan raised an eyebrow.  “Try me,” he said.

Simon sighed.  “There was a dress once.”

Ryan smirked at the thought.  “You  _enjoy_  dressing up in women’s clothing.”

“Evening gowns are one thing.  Little Bo Peep is another.”

“ _Little Bo Peep_?  As in the nursery rhyme?”

Once again, Simon groaned and buried his face in his hands.  “You don’t want to know what the sheep were used for,” he mumbled.

Ryan suddenly decided that he had heard enough.  He didn’t need to know the details of what went on between Simon and Bower.  He didn’t want to know.  What mattered was that the way Simon felt about their own relationship apparently hadn’t changed, and that Bower clearly meant nothing to him.

He slowly walked over to the couch and sat down next to Simon.  Gently, he placed his hand on Simon’s forearm and pulled one of Simon’s hands away from his face.  Simon turned and looked at him with sad, weary eyes, clouded by desperation.

“I don’t know what to do,” Simon whispered.

Instinctively, Ryan answered, “I’ll take care of it.”

Simon scoffed.  “What do you mean,  _you’ll take care of it_?”

“In case you haven’t noticed, I’m quite competent in ALL aspects of career management,” said Ryan with a smile.  

Simon looked at him doubtfully.  “Two words:  Teri Hatcher,” he said.

Ryan held his gaze as he confidently replied, “Two NEW words:  Julianne Hough.”

Simon rolled his eyes and looked away.  After a moment, he quietly said, “I’m open to ideas.”

Ryan smiled.  “Well, let’s think this through.  If not money, what else does a man like Tom Bower crave?  Excluding your sexual prowess, of course.”

“Success.  Power.”

“Exactly.  And if you take away his success, you take away his power.  Frankly, I’m surprised that he’s had any success at all, considering his journalistic skills.”

“What do mean by that?” Simon asked, confused.  “He’s one of the most reputable biographers around.  That’s why I was so concerned when I heard that I was to be the subject of his next book.”

Ryan cocked his eyebrow.  “Did you actually read the book he wrote about you?” he asked.

Simon looked at him in astonishment.  “Why on earth would I read the book, when I have people who will do it for me and tell me what it says?”

“That’s how you got through school, too, isn’t it?”

“That, plus sleeping with the teacher.”

“Male or female?”

“A trannie, if I remember correctly.”

Ryan laughed, and, suddenly, Simon did too.  Ryan could almost sense the weight as it was lifted from Simon’s shoulders and placed onto his own.  It felt good.

“Returning to the topic at hand…” Ryan continued.  “That book that Bower wrote about you is half trash.  Your ‘love life’ aside, there is an unbelievable number of mistakes in it.  Dates and timelines are completely inaccurate, details about the shows are wrong, your relationships with other people are grossly mischaracterized…. the list goes on and on.  It’s obvious that Bower is a lazy, sloppy journalist, one who can’t even be bothered to hire a competent fact-checker.”

“Are you telling me that YOU actually read the book?”

“Not the whole book, no,” Ryan answered truthfully.  “But I’ve heard the thoughts of people who have.”  Sheepishly, Ryan looked away.

When Ryan didn’t elaborate, Simon eyed him suspiciously.  Suddenly, Simon smiled.

“You’ve been reading the message board for your fansite again, haven’t you?” Simon asked with a smirk.

Ryan grimaced before exclaiming, “No!  My people do that for me, and report back what is being said.”  

Ryan paused to look back at Simon before adding, “Just as your people read your Appreciation Thread on that U.K. Showbiz forum, and report back to you.”

Simon laughed again, longer this time, and replied, “Fair enough.”

“Anyway,” Ryan continued, “As it so happens, there are people who have enough knowledge about you and your work to have picked up on the numerous mistakes throughout the book…. Enough mistakes to embarrass Mr. Tom Bower and seriously damage his reputation as a biographer.  Such damage would severely curtail his success in the field of journalism, essentially eliminating his power over you, me, or anyone else.”

“He wouldn’t like that.”

“No, he wouldn’t.  We can present him with detailed documentation listing all his mistakes and give him a choice.  We can offer to keep it to ourselves, if he agrees to leave us alone.  Or, we can threaten to go public with it, take it to every media outlet in the U.K., turn him into a charlatan.  HIS career is the one that comes crashing down, and his threat of a book about me becomes irrelevant.  Nobody would believe a word of it.”

“I think I like this idea.”

Simon relaxed, leaning back into the couch, absentmindedly stroking the length of Ryan’s thigh with his hand as he did.  Instinctively, Ryan inched closer to Simon.  He noted the ridiculous number of undone buttons on Simon’s crisp white shirt.  He counted.  Five.  Usually, it was four.

“How do we go about assembling this ‘documentation’ about the book’s mistakes?” Simon asked.  “It sounds like a lot of work.”

“We can have a couple of our friendly fans do that for us,” Ryan replied.  He was suddenly very aware of how long ago the vacation in St. Bart’s had been.

Ryan subtly shifted his body toward Simon.  He used his own hand to slowly, deliberately travel the inside of Simon’s thigh.  He brought it to rest at a spot tantalizingly close to Simon’s suddenly restrictive fly and squeezed.

Green eyes gazed into brown ones, and their years together rendered spoken communication unnecessary.  Simon took Ryan’s hand in his own and together they undid the button and zipper.  

“How do we get these fans to do that?” Simon asked, as he used his other hand to slide his pants down.

Ryan gently disentangled their hands.  He climbed into Simon’s lap, straddling him, and rested his forehead against his.  

“We ask them real nice,” he whispered, before planting a soft kiss on Simon’s lips.  He undid the remaining buttons on Simon’s shirt and pulled it open.

“What if they say no?  Or don’t believe that it’s really us?”

Ryan’s kisses moved downward, from Simon’s lips, to his jawline, to his neck, to his chest.  He used his tongue to trace Simon’s treasure trail as he slowly sunk down between Simon’s knees.  As his own knees came to a rest on the floor, he looked back up into Simon’s face.

“We could offer to show them one of our personal videos.”

Simon made a strangled noise in his throat.  “Didn’t we destroy all of those?”

As Ryan reached for Simon’s cock, he answered, “We could always make a new one.”

Ryan, brimming with confidence, began to suck.  He knew that, finally, there was no mistaking that they were truly equals in their relationship, and he knew that Simon was aware of this as well.  This newfound balance could change things, giving Ryan a freedom to make requests and give refusals that he might not have before.  He might even have the upper hand at times, allowing him to make demands, allowing him to do whatever the hell he wanted.  Like now.  But, right now, all he wanted was to pleasure Simon.

“Slow down,” moaned Simon, pulling Ryan off.  He cradled Ryan’s face in his hands, and looked down at him with a curious expression.  

“When did you get so savvy, anyway?” Simon asked.

“When you weren’t watching, I guess.”

“I’ll have to watch you closer from now on.”

“You should do that.  Maybe you’ll learn something.”    
  
And then Ryan continued doing what he wanted.


End file.
